


And Whatever They Say, Your Soul's Unbreakable

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: It was quiet as she made her way through the Zephyr; no one wishing her a happy birthday, everyone taking a step back, letting her have her own space to grieve and mourn, and she wasn’t sure what was worse; everyone ignoring her, letting her cope with the loss of her husband, the best friend in her own way or everyone crowding her, telling her that they were there for her, for whatever she needed. It was so conflicting, so overwhelming and lonely at the same time. And if she was being honest, she hated the loneliness that bit more, hated that they were leaving her to grieve alone because she wasn't sure she could do this alone.// A fic looking at the worst, and best birthday, that Jemma Simmons ever had.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for being so inactive lately. With working overtime every week for the past 6 weeks, and having to deal with a whole bunch of stuff, I have had no energy to write fic recently but I am intending on finishing the two WIP I have atm, I just need another couple of days to get things together. Thank you so much for all your patience, I never meant to leave you all without any updates for so long.

Jemma really wished that she could say that this was the first time that she had spent her birthday away from Fitz, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even the second time. It wasn’t even the third time. But that never took away the pain. In fact, it only made it worse. It made her miss him all the more. Every morning she woke up, all she wanted to do was to go back to bed, curl up under the blankets and wait for everything to all be over. But she couldn’t.

She had to get up, get something to eat, and then head to the lab, and work on finding Fitz, bringing him back home. It had been months now since he had died, been killed after that building had collapsed on him, and despite what every else had told her, it wasn’t getting easier. In fact, each day was getting harder, each passing her day taking her further and further away from him, from him and his hold. She was starting to forget things about him, it was only tiny things, but it still terrified her.

She was forgetting how he held her at night, his arms around her, holding her close as they both battled nightmares. How his scent always filled her nose when she hugged him, stood by him; the oily greasy smell that came from working with machines all day that was never truly hidden by his cologne. The way his eyes sparkled in the light, in ways that photographs and pictures could never accurately capture. How his voice sounded in the early hours of the morning after a nightmare; heavy with sleep but still so soft, so comforting, a gently lilt that scared away all the demons that plagued her dreams.

It was all fading from her memory, becoming distant and foggy, and it terrified her.

Finally, she dragged herself out of bed, grabbing one of the protein bars that she kept in the drawer of cabinet that sat in the corner of her bunk, and started to get dressed, taking the occasion small bite. She reached for her phone half way through getting dressed, her blouse still unbuttoned and hanging open. Unlocking the screen, she had to fight back the tears, seeing Fitz there. With shaking thumbs, the first tears making tracks down her face, she opened up her Gallery app, scrolling through all their photos together` until she found what she wanted.

The video started to play, Fitz’s voice, soft and happy filled the empty space that was her bunk. As it continued, Fitz telling her that he missed her, she had to sit down as she feared that her legs were not strong enough to support her, that if she kept standing, her legs would buckle from under her and she wouldn’t be able to get back up again.

The video ended and began to play a second time but she didn’t make a move to stop it. No, instead, she just allowed the video to loop again and again and again, each time pushing the knife that bit further into her chest, shredding apart what was left of her heart.

Eventually, she locked the phone, unable to watch it any longer. Wiping at the tears on her face with her sleeve, she buttoned up her blouse and left her room, not wanting to be alone in her room any more, not wanting to have to live with a ghost that wasn’t there anymore.

It was quiet as she made her way through the Zephyr; no one wishing her a happy birthday, everyone taking a step back, letting her have her own space to grieve and mourn, and she wasn’t sure what was worse; everyone ignoring her, letting her cope with the loss of her husband, the best friend in her own way or everyone crowding her, telling her that they were there for her, for whatever she needed. It was so conflicting, so overwhelming and lonely at the same time. And if she was being honest, she hated the loneliness that bit more, hated that they were leaving her to grieve alone because she wasn't sure she could do this alone.

***

“Jemma,” Elena asked a number of hours later, once Jemma had settled in the lab, and had begun to sort through all the research that she had done. Well, that had been the plan. What had actually happened was that she had fallen asleep at her desk, the tiredness and the pain overtaking her in ways that she shocked her. She didn’t know how long she was asleep but it was Elena’s voice, gentle and full of concern that woke her. There was a soft reassuring hand on her shoulder and as she sat up, a page falling away from her face and landing back onto the desk.

“What… what…”

“You fell asleep,” Elena shushed, brushing back a strand of Jemma’s hair, a move that she knew was meant to be reassuring, one that was supposed to show comfort and support but only made her sick to the stomach because it reminded her of Fitz and how he was no longer here to be able to do that to her. “How about you take a day off? Get some sleep? When was the last time you had a proper night’s sleep Jemma?”

A brief pause as she tried to think of an answer, but the truth was, there wasn’t one that was acceptable. One that Elena would accept. She did try to answer, but the words came out as a stutter, each one falling over the next.

“Come on,” Elena began, rising to her feet and helping Jemma to her own, Jemma leaning much more heavily into her friend than she probably should have been. She looked like she was about to pass out again, as though the only reason that she was standing was because of Elena. “You need rest some sleep….”

“No,” Jemma interjected, trying to fight for the briefest moment to get out of her friend’s hold but eventually gave up, not having the energy in her to fight it. “I can’t… I need to find… I need to find Fitz.”

“And you will.” They were at her bunk by this point, Elena pushing the door open and helping Jemma into it. “But first you need to sleep. We can find Fitz afterwards, but you can’t work like this, you can’t find him like this. Would he want you hurting yourself?” She didn’t even wait for Jemma to reply before guiding her to the bed, continuing to speak. “He wouldn’t, but we can help you. You just need to get some sleep.”

Helping Jemma, she tucked the other woman into the bed, ensuring that the blankets provided the much needed warmth. “I just…” Jemma all but slurred at this point, her eyes fluttering shut now that she was no longer standing, now that she was tucked into bed. “Wanna…”

“I know,” Elena repeated, hoping to reassure Jemma. “And we will find him, you just need to rest first.”

But no reply came from Jemma to this statement, as she had already fallen asleep, so Elena flicked her light off and closed the door gently behind her, letting Jemma rest.

***

“You wanted to speak to me?” Jemma asked, arms hugged around herself, protecting herself from what Daisy might say to her. She knew that the team was thinking about cutting their losses, that they were thinking about giving up. Not that she told anyone that because she wasn’t. She would never. Fitz had never given up on her before, even when time and space had separated them, and she wasn’t going to give up on him.  Not ever.

“Do you…” Daisy asked, looking up at her friend, who looked awful, there was no doubt about it. Her hair was lifeless and limb, hanging around her face in curtains, as if Jemma were trying to hide herself away from the outside world and all those who wanted to help her. “Do you want to sit down…”

“What do you want?” The question from Jemma was spat out. Daisy had no idea if Jemma knew that the rest of the team were in talks of giving up on the mission, if not permanently, at least for a little while, wanting to take time and go back to Earth, but obviously from the way the question was asked, she had an idea. “I don’t have time for this Daisy. I need to get back to the lab.”

A pause from the Inhuman. Judging from how paranoid and irritate Jemma was acting, she was just awake, having come from her bunk. Elena had cornered her earlier that day, and said that Jemma had passed out again in the lab today, and that she had taken Jemma back so that she could get some sleep. It was always like this now. Jemma overworking herself and not sleeping enough, causing her to pass out more often than not. It was terrifying at times, watching Jemma fall, collapsing simply because her body couldn't take anymore. But it might... with what they had discovered, things might be changing, looking up. “We located a ship earlier, made contact with it. And it’s… Fitz is there Jemma. We found him. We… you did it. You…”

“We found him?” Jemma breathed, the words leaving her as a question. She was scared to believe it, not wanting to believe it. Because they had had times before when they thought they had found him before, and when it had been revealed they had been wrong, her whole world had collapsed out from under her again. And each time it happened, it was worse than the time before. She wasn’t losing hope, because she couldn’t, but it was still a punch to the gut each time. “Have we really found him?”

Daisy turned to look at her, her lips curving up into a smile, wanting to reassure Jemma that they had found him because she knew that Jemma might not be able to take any more false hope, something that would probably shatter her. But they had found the ship, had made contact with Enoch and his ship, and he was helping them from his end. Davis had set a course of them, taking them to it. It would take another couple of days before they arrived, but they had found Fitz, and they were already on their way there.

“We did it,” Jemma whispered, voice breaking as she sat down next to Daisy, allowing herself to be pulled into the Inhumans arms, shaking with sobs as she realised that they were going to find him, that this journey, this mission from hell was finally over. “We found him.”

“Happy Birthday Jemma.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was another two years before Jemma had what may have been the best birthday that she ever had. It started of simple, Fitz waking up in bed beside her, his arms wrapped around her and holding her close. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips soft and delicate, the early morning kiss being the thing that pulled her back into the world of the waking.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice heavy with sleep as he continued to wake up properly. “Happy birthday Jemma.”

Her lips flicked up as she heard the words. She wasn’t really registering them, not really. It was still early, and she wasn’t fully awake yet. It was hearing his words, how gentle and caring they were. It was how soft his lips were as he kissed her forehead, the kiss that he gave her each and every morning. She didn’t care though, in fact, she loved it. Waking up each morning with his lips pressing delicate kisses on her forehead, it was the perfect way to wake up. It was the best way to wake up each morning, it was how she wanted to wake up each morning and she would never complain about it.

Never.

“Hi.” She smiled up at him, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “What…” It was another few seconds before she realised what he was saying. “Thank you.” There was a warm fuzzy feeling in her chest, a warm spreading through her veins as she managed to comprehend what was happening in that moment. Comprehending the fact that she was lying in her bed, with her husband, in their cottage in Perthshire, a small family cottage just outside of Kenmore, with the late morning sun breaking through the curtains, bathing her in their warmth.

It was a simple life, nothing like S.H.I.E.L.D. had ever been. She once lived a life where she craved adventure, new experiences and opportunities. She would have argued that only fools would have given up opportunities to pass up chances like that. 

But now they had been out for nearly two years, the two of them having left once they had found Fitz, frozen in space miles and miles away from Earth, once they had gotten back to it. It had taken them weeks, months to recover from everything that they had experienced, all that they had suffered.

The two of them had spent months working on their relationship, bringing it back to what it once was. Well, they both knew that they could never get it back to what it once was, not after all that had happened. But they had gotten married again, a simple ceremony in Perthshire with those that they had loved the most.

“And the twins?” she asked.

Fitz frowned, wondering what she was asking but then he realised. Neither of the twins had woken up crying yet, screaming for their breakfast. “They not up yet…” The way that he said it, he sounded so confused. Because there was something odd about the fact that the twins were yet to awake. They always awoke at the crack of dawn, even before the birds most mornings.  But this morning, they hadn’t, instead choosing to continue to sleep.

But then…

“There they are,” Jemma said, laughing, the soft noise being drowned out, as she pushed the sheets back, beginning to rise but Fitz just stared at her, as though he were about to object but she shook her head. Just because it was her birthday didn’t mean that Fitz had to do this alone, attempt to feed the two of them breakfast. It was a two person job, and she wasn’t going to let him do this alone, not after last time. “I’ll help Fitz,” she told him.

“Are you…”

“I am.” She stood on her tiptoes, looping her arms around his neck and brining her lips to his, the two of them sharing a deep, tender kiss, full of love. He used his teeth gently, nipping her on the lip, a low moan escaping her. He laughed at this as they broke apart.

“C’mon, let’s go get these two fed before they wake the dead.” And wrapping his arm around her waist, he led her out of the room, and together, they headed down to the nursery where the twins were still screaming.

***

The twins were nearly nine months old at this point, the two of them having been born at the end of the December that had just passed. The day that Jemma had found out that she was pregnant, it had been a shock to her. They had wanted children, the two of them. But after everything that had happened, there was a part of her that was terrified. She didn’t want to lose her child, her husband, her family.

Then one day, they found out that they were expecting, something that caused Jemma to panic. Fitz tried his best to understand, but he would never really understand. Not really. He tried his best to reassure her but nothing was really helping. A number of weeks after that showed that she was carrying two, twins. Something that she had never expected.

Something that, oddly, helped to reassure her.

Deke had confirmed that her mother had been an only child, that she had no siblings at all, and hearing that, it had helped to reassure Jemma that the loop was definitely broken, that she wasn’t going to lose Fitz. Not again.

Ever again.

They now were here, and they were happy and that’s all that the two of them wanted. Spending time with their family, having their happy ending, it was perfect and all that they wanted. And with being in the country, just outside the village, it meant that they were at peace, and they had a large garden.

Something that they even enjoyed at this time of year. The days with the sun would becoming less and less now that Autumn was coming to Perthshire, the first leaves on the tress already starting to fade from a bright vibrant green to crispy oranges and fiery reds.

Fitz was pushing Peggy in the swing set in the middle of the garden, gentles pushes that brought her back and forth and forth and back, her giggles, a sweet-sounding laughter filling the air.

Aoife, meanwhile, sat with Jemma, the two of them drawing together. Aoife had taken a sudden interest in using her crayons to draw anywhere that she could, so her and Fitz were doing everything that they could to prevent their walks and floors and rugs and tables from being coloured in. Which meant that they were getting through many, many sheets of paper each day. Fitz always joked about how she was going to be the world’s greatest artist.

It was such a simple way to spend the afternoon, and maybe it wasn’t the most extravagant way to spend the day, staying in and spending time with her family, but it was peaceful, she was surrounded by her family, those that she loved the most.

And to her, that was the thing that mattered the most to her.

Family.

***

In a strange turn of events, it was Aoife who was awake from her afternoon nap first. She was always  the one that was happy to sleep, to curl up and rest in her mother or father’s arms, unlike Peggy, who was always wake within the hour of being put down for a nap, screaming and crying for attention.

Daisy often joked that that was the only difference between the two of them, that everything else was just the same. That there was no way to tell the difference between the two of them. But Jemma knew that there was. Fitz too. There were differences between the two of them, they were two different people after all. And they, being the twins parents, just knew.

“Hi sweetie,” Jemma whispered, cooing to Aoife who was just enjoying being cuddled in her mother’s arms, being fussed over and made the centre of attention. Fitz was in the corner, a book balanced in his lap. His attention wasn’t even on it, instead he was watching his wife, at how happy she was, how natural motherhood seemed to come to her.

She had been so nervous when she had first found out that she was pregnant but as the days passed, as they turned into weeks and months, she was wonderful, she was perfect, making sure everything was okay, that she was on top of everything. And when she gave birth, she took like a duck to water, it was as natural to her as breathing was.

Of course, there were days when both of them panicked, unsure if they were doing the right, which often caused late night/early morning phone calls to Fitz’s mother (who was more than happy to get them, more than glad she was able to hear from her son and daughter-in-law at least five times a week as opposed to once or twice a year), who reassured them that they were doing the best, that there was nothing more that they could do.

It was reassuring though, to hear that they were doing a good job.

“Mama.”

The word took them both by surprise, knocking them out of their thoughts. They both looked at each other, unable to believe what had just happened. Aoife had just spoken her first word. She was normally the quiet reserved one, both of them believing that it would be Peggy who spoke first, and here Aoife was, proving the both of them wrong.

“Did she just…” Fitz began to ask, looking between the two of them. It was a surreal moment, hearing one of his daughters speak for the first time. It had been such a simple word, two syllables but it was such a wonderful moment, one that brought a tear to his eye.

“I think she did,” Jemma whispered, using her finger to stroke at Aoife’s cheek, who was gurgling and babbling away, happy as anything.  “Did you just say Mama?” her voice turned softer at this, wiping at a bubble that had formed at the corner of Aoife’s mouth.

“Mama!”

She said the word again, clapping her hands as though she were proud of herself, and Fitz was unable to keep the smile off his face as he headed over to the sofa where Jemma was, coming to sit down beside her, using one hand to cup Jemma’s cheek, her own eyes sparkling with tears.

“She did it,” she told her husband, tears now making their way down his face as he began to wipe them. “She did it.” He leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on her lips.

“She did,” he agreed, smiling at her, when…

“Peggy.”

The crying was coming from the nursery upstairs, Peggy now having woken up from her own nap. They filled the house as she tried to let them know that she wanted them, that she was scared and afraid and hungry. The sounds tore at Jemma’s heart, they always did because she hated hearing her babies so sad, so upset but Fitz caught on.

He always did.

It was Fitz after all.

“She must be missing not getting all the attention.” Fitz made the joke, dipping his head down once more to kiss his wife. “I’ll go get her, and then we can focus on getting the two of them fed, yeah?”

Jemma nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, I’ll see if I can get this one settled while you get Peggy,” Jemma explained, standing as she started to get ready to head to the kitchen and start making the twins their next meal.

Fitz stood up and started to make his way towards the stairs so that he could get Peggy, to bring her downstairs, with the hopes that they could get the both of them fed before they ordered a takeaway in, as a way to celebrate Jemma’s birthday.

***

It was just after nine in the evening by the time that the two of them had managed to get down Aoife and Peggy, the two of them now peacefully sleeping in the nursery. Jemma and Fitz themselves were tucked into their own bed, a mug of tea each with _Doctor Who_ playing in the background. The volume was low, barely audible, so as not to wake their daughters.

The two of them had managed to get takeaway food in the end, sharing an Indian between them whilst Peggy and Aoife sat with them, the two of them watching _Paw Patrol_ whilst Jemma and Fitz enjoyed their dinner, their first Indian since Jemma had been pregnant, Jemma curling up against her husband once they had finished it, her head resting on his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair, playing with the strands. They were all happy to sit back and watch another couple of episodes before taking them out for a late evening walk, something to help tire the twins out. Something that, thankfully, happened. The two of them didn’t walk much, instead being pushed in their double pram. Halfway through though, Peggy started getting restless, prompting Fitz to carry her the rest of the way home, holding her close, but pointing at all the birds that were fluttering about, and telling her which insects which were chirping which noises. She was taking in none of the information, but there was laughter coming from her, pure joy at simply being there with her father.

A yawn escaped Jemma now. Today, it hadn’t been more tiring than the day before, or any day in the previous weeks, there had been more tiring days but for some reason, and unknown to her, she was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep here, in her husband’s arms.

“Hey,” he whispered, his lips dusting the top of her head. “Tried?”

“Mmhh,” was all that she replied, curling up close to him, burying herself deeper into his chest, feeling the familiar beat of his heart against her cheek, hearing the thump thump thump. It was a tether to the world, a gentle reassurance that he was alive and here with her.

He gave a gentle laugh, and after setting their mugs on the cabinet beside the bed, turned the TV off, pulling the blankets over them. “Happy birthday Jemma,” he whispered to her, watching as her eyes fluttered shut. He had no idea what she was thinking, what the last thoughts flittering through her mind where. He hoped that she had a good birthday, that everything had went well.

And it had.

To Jemma, it was a wonderful birthday.

No, it was the best birthday that she ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one took slightly longer than planned, and came out much longer than I expected. Thank you all for your lovely comments on the first chapter, I am so glad that you enjoyed it. I really hope that you enjoyed this part and thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> The next part of this should be up on Thursday, or Friday, depending on life. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment, and for baring with me these past few weeks.
> 
> (And yes, the next update will be the best birthday Jemma ever had)


End file.
